I stared at him in horror. He made me sit next to the one person I never wished to. But who was I to refuse my master.

"Griet," he breathed. It seemed to me that he wished I not to be their either. I prayed to my God that he would stop this before it got any further. I prayed to his God as well. "Griet," he ordered again, this time more forcefully, hoping to gain my attention. I wished he was only doing this so I spent the less time with him as possible.

I looked up at him. His eyes met mine and i thought that i could see pity. For me?

"Griet," he said again. "Place your hand on van Ruijven's knee."

I hesitated for a moment and that was all it took. "Wide-eyed maid? What is this hesitation for?"

"Nothing, sir," I murmured. I leant across and let my fingers sit on his knee.

"Not like that, Griet," he murmured. "Closer."

I felt my face blush. I looked away from the startling gaze of van Ruijven. I moved my hand further up so now my palm was sitting on his kneecap.

"Stay like that. Don't move."

I held my position, trying to keep the tears from my eyes.

"I will be back soon, I need to grind some colours, Griet. Van Ruijven."

I heard his chair slide along the floor in the studio as he stood up. I heard his heavy shuffle move towards the ladder to the attic. I counted his steps till i knew he was up there – grinding colours for this painting. That was when van Ruijven turned to me.

"I like that, Griet."

"Please, sir," I murmured.

He lent forward into my reaching, forcing my hand closer to his groin. I tried to move my hand back but he grabbed it, forcing himself closer.

"Don't be like that, Griet. I will have you sooner or later." He pulled me closer kissing my face. I tried to escape – he wouldn't allow it. He pushed me to the floor, lying down onto me.

"Sir, don't."

"You would refuse me?" He spat.

Traitor tears run down my cheeks now. He lowered his pants and he forced himself into me. I cried out in pain and desperately tried to escape, accidently knocking the leg of his Easel. The canvas crashed to the floor, van Ruijven seeming not to notice. He was too busy kissing my lips, roughly.

I yelled out again.

I began to cry now. I couldn't stop.

Suddenly, van Ruijven was no longer on top of me. He was on the other side of the room. I curled myself into a ball, trying to block out everything around me.

There was a crash.

There was shouting.

Somebody ran past me, down the stairs, out of the house.

Somebody yelled down the stairs.

And then there was silence.

And then he was at my side. "Oh no, Griet," he whispered. "Oh Griet, no."